


We Are Accidents Waiting to Happen

by Malifique



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom Jack rights, Good Dad Rhys, M/M, he has lots of feelings but he's so bad at it, pushy twink Rhys, sad angry dad Jack, smut with feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:41:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24606376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malifique/pseuds/Malifique
Summary: Jack is a software programmer with a dead wife and a daughter he loves and fears in equal measure. Angry and grieving, he's well on his way to becoming Handsome Jack when he meets Rhys, the eager young thing next door. What starts out as a series of casual encounters may change the fate of the universe.
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 165





	We Are Accidents Waiting to Happen

**Author's Note:**

> I saw that picture of Jack with his pregnant wife and decided to write smut to deal with my feelings.

He’s in the garbage room, smoking under a ‘no smoking’ sign when the kid walks in. Jack has seen him around, Rhys something, lives across the hall, always looking at Jack from the corner of his eye whenever they pass each other in the corridor. 

Now he looks at Jack, looks at the sign above his head and grins. “John, right?” 

“It’s Jack.” Just a handful of people call him John, and the only good one is long dead. He can hear her now, as clear as a bell: ‘ _C’mon, ‘Jack and Jill’, really? Don’t be an idiot, John_ ’. But it’s late, he’s tired, and he doesn’t want to think about his dead wife, so he drags his eyes over the kid instead. 

Rhys is not half bad looking: long legs, tattoos, a mix of cocky and geeky that shouldn’t work but does. The arm is cool. Those big bambi eyes are looking at him with intent. 

Jack takes a drag on his cigarette and says, “Shouldn’t you be in school?” 

Rhys frowns. “It’s 10PM. And there aren’t any schools on Helios.”

He rubs at the bridge of his nose. “I know, I was trying to make a point.” 

Rhys draws himself up. Tall fucker. “I’m 25.” 

“Coulda fooled me, kitten. Did you follow me here?” 

“No,” Rhys says too quickly. He looks a little nervous, and more than a little excited. His eyes keep darting between Jack’s face and Jack’s crotch. 

He considers it. Kid’s got a pretty mouth and it’s been a long dry spell. “Don’t you know bad things happen when you talk to strangers late at night?” 

“I’m counting on it,” the kid says, licking his lips. 

It’s a stupid thing to do, but Jack’s life has been a series of bad decisions and he doesn’t see why he should stop now. He palms himself through his jeans and watches Rhys’ eyes dilate with hunger. “Well, c’mon kiddo, I haven’t got all night.” 

The kid looks good on his knees. Rhys sucks him off hard and fast like he knows what he's doing. Jack grips him by the hair and braces himself against the wall, thrusting roughly into that willing mouth. When he comes it makes his knees weak. Rhys swallows like a champ. 

There’s the sound of footsteps outside. Jack doesn't want to scandalise the neighbours; it attracts too much attention. He tucks himself back into his jeans and makes a surprised sound when Rhys plucks his cigarette out of his mouth. The kid takes a long drag then makes an obvious attempt not to cough, his eyes watering with the effort. It’s ridiculous but cute. 

Rhys pulls his shirt over the tent in his pants and gives him a wink. “I’ll see you around, handsome.” As parting lines go it ain’t half bad. A young couple push through the doors just as Rhys leaves, taking Jack’s cigarette with him. Jack tries not to look like he just got blown next to the garbage chute. 

Angel is asleep in her room by the time he gets back. He looks at his little girl curled up amongst the bank of monitors, her face sallow in the blue light, then closes the door on her.

* 

“She’s got your nose, pumpkin.” 

“Thank god, have you looked in the mirror? Poor kid would never live that down.” 

“Hey, I don’t hear you complaining about this handsome mug when you’re sitting on it.”

“That’s cuz I’ve got my legs clamped around your ears, jackass.”

“God, I love you so fucking much.”

“That’s sweet, but save it for when I haven’t just pushed out a watermelon.”

“She’s a pretty cute watermelon though. What should we call her?” 

“Not sure yet. God, John, look at this little angel, I can’t believe we made her.” 

“You did most of the heavy lifting, cupcake.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

* 

He runs into Rhys again a week later. The kid is waiting outside his door, his body one long inviting curve leaning against the wall. Those bambi eyes light up at the sight of him. 

“Hey, uh, I locked myself out. Do you mind if I wait at yours until the locksmith gets here?”

He looks at the kid, who’s blushing prettily under his stare. He checks the time; Angel will be in bed already. He really shouldn’t, he knows that, but it’s only fair, seeing as how Rhys didn’t get his last time. “Cut the song and dance, kiddo. If you want me to fuck you then just say so.” 

“Oh.” Rhys straightens up, looking a little embarrassed, but he’s grinning too. “Okay then, wanna fuck?” 

When Jack lets them through the door the kid is on him like a jock on prom night. He shoves Rhys up against the wall and grips him through his pants. Not bad. Rhys groans, rutting up into him. 

He clamps a hand over those pouty lips. “Hey, keep it down, pumpkin.” 

He drags Rhys into his room and shoves him down on the bed. The kid is stripping already, eager as anything. “You got nosy neighbours or something?” Rhys asks as he pulls his shirt over his head. 

“Something like that.” 

Rhys is limber and keen. When Jack bottoms out in him Rhys moans around the knuckle in his mouth and pushes back into his thrusts. His body grips Jack’s dick like a hot slick fist. He takes everything Jack gives him and demands more. When Jack comes it hits him so hard he sees stars. The kid makes a mess of his sheets. 

Afterwards, Jack is sprawled out on his back, fighting through the post-orgasm haze so he can kick Rhys out when the kid jumps up unprompted. “Thanks, that was fun.” Rhys bends to pull on his pants and Jack lies back, admiring both the view and the no-bullshit attitude. 

Right before Rhys leaves he bends and sticks his tongue in Jack’s mouth, rude and slutty. That metal hand gives his dick a fond squeeze. Jack can’t remember the last time he had so much fun. 

He’s almost asleep when he hears the sound of voices in the next room. _Fuck._ He’s off the bed in a second, adrenaline running through him. He barely has the presence of mind to pull on a pair of sweatpants before he bursts into the living room. 

Rhys is leaning casually against the kitchen bench. Angel stands on the other side, skittish, keeping the bench between them. When she sees Jack barrel in she ducks back into her room. 

_Fuck._

Rhys turns and smiles easily. “Cute kid. Is she always this shy around strangers?”

Jack rubs a hand over his face. He wishes he can think up a good excuse, but he’s still sex stupid and Tassiter’s been working him hard all day. “You should go,” is all he manages. 

Rhys frowns. “Hey, I don’t mind if you have a kid. I just wish you’d said something. She could’ve heard us.” 

_She hears everything,_ he thinks, but just says, “Can you keep it to yourself? Nobody’s supposed to know about her.”

“Okay,” Rhys says slowly like he thinks Jack’s insane. There goes any chance of getting his dick sucked again. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”

Jack barks out a laugh. “Look, kid, that’s not what this is about. I don’t even know your last name, and I am definitely not interested in your help.” He walks past Rhys and holds the front door open meaningfully. 

Rhys is watching his face but Jack keeps it smooth. He knows he’s got a good poker face. He’s about to shut the door behind Rhys when a metal hand props it open. 

“It’s Strongfork,” Rhys says.

“What?”

“That’s my last name. Strongfork.” 

“That’s a dumb fucking name,” Jack says, and shuts the door in his face.

* 

It’s three full weeks before he sees Rhys again. He can feel his eyebrows climbing when he finds Rhys on the other side of his door. 

“You’re a massive asshole, you know that?” Rhys says by way of greeting.

Jack shrugs. “So I’ve been told.” 

Rhys scowls. It’s like being menaced by a puppy. “And I’m not interested in whatever the fuck you’ve got going on.”

“Okay.” He waits. 

Rhys bites his lip like he’s angry, but his poker face is shitty and Jack can see the pink in his cheeks. After another minute Rhys says, “Do you want to come over?”

Jack thinks about saying no, but he also thinks about the way Rhys can bend like a pretzel, about how eagerly he sucks dick. He thinks about how nice it’s been to touch another human. “Alright, kitten.” 

It’s been years since Jack last had a dick in his mouth but it’s like riding a bike. He works three fingers inside Rhys and manages to take Rhys’ dick halfway down his throat on the second try. Rhys, when he doesn’t have to stay quiet, has quite the mouth on him.

“Fuuuck your fingers are so fucking big. Where did you learn to suck dick like that, _ngh_ , get it all in there--”

When he pulls off Rhys whines and yanks at his hair. Jack wipes a hand over his mouth and says, “Do you ever shut up?” 

“Make me,” Rhys says, then shoves him onto his back and sinks down on his dick fast enough to make them both groan. 

Rhys rides him like a trooper, his pale thighs trembling under Jack’s hands, fingers tugging at the hair on Jack’s chest. Jack discovers if he angles his hips just right he can get Rhys to stop talking, though the sounds spilling out of his pretty mouth are no less noisy. It’s honestly pretty fucking hot. 

They’re lying together afterwards in no way that can be classified as a cuddle when Rhys says, “What’s her name?”

Jack tenses up, all trace of afterglow gone. “What do you care?”

Rhys rolls his eyes. “I’m just trying to make conversation.”

Christ. This is why he should stick to one night stands. He sits up and starts hunting for his clothes. “That’s not what--”

“--This is about, yeah yeah.” Rhys rubs a hand through his hair. “Would it kill you to not be such a huge dick all the time?”

“Didn’t hear you complain about this huge dick earlier.”

Rhys looks like he wants to be angry, but he snorts. “Man, you’re such a dad.” 

That brings Jack up short. It’s not that he doesn’t know he’s a dad, he just doesn’t like to think about it. “Angel,” he says at last. “Her name’s Angel.”

Rhys is watching him, but Jack’s poker face is still solid. “That’s sweet,” Rhys says. “She looks like a good kid.”

Jack’s got nothing to say to that.

*

The next time Rhys comes around he brings Angel a stuffed unicorn toy. It’s a blatantly transparent attempt at buying her affections. Jack thinks about putting a stop to it, but the way her face lights up changes his mind. 

“I’m going to call her Butt Stallion!”

Rhys makes a constipated face. Jack laughs and ruffles her hair. “That’s my girl.” She looks up at him with a hesitant smile, and for a minute it feels like things can always be this simple.

*

They get into a routine of sorts. At first he’s mostly at Rhys’ place, but when he sees how much Angel enjoys seeing another face, he caves. The apartment with its three small rooms is her entire world, and that's not fair but then neither is life. Jack knows damn well why she has to be kept away from other people, but knowing it doesn’t make him feel any less shit.

Rhys starts coming around more often. Sometimes they don’t even fuck. Sometimes Jack comes home late from another shitty day in the office to find that Rhys has ordered takeout for everyone. He sits and watches Rhys chat to Angel over pizza, and thinks how easy it is for this to keep happening. It’s a dangerous thought. 

* 

“She’s a freak.”

“Don’t you fucking say that. I swear to god, John, if I hear those words from you one more time--” 

“You saw what she did, Jillian! Do you realise what this means? If word gets out we can't protect her. We’ll never be safe.”

“She’s my baby, and I’ll kill anyone who tries to hurt her. That includes you.”

“Oh, kitten, I’m sorry, don’t be like that, I didn’t mean it. C’mere, it’s okay, I got you, shh, shh. I’m sorry, I’m a fucking idiot, please don’t cry.”

“God, John, what are we going to do?”

“I don’t know, baby, I don’t know. But I’ll figure something out, I promise.”

* 

When Jack gets home the two of them are sitting on the couch, watching cartoons. The sight of it stops him in his tracks. He stands in the doorway and just watches them for a while. He thinks about why he works so hard, why he puts up with Tassiter’s bullshit and slaves at his desk, just so he can get enough of a safety net to keep the things he holds dear. He thinks about what those things may be.

Rhys says something too low to hear and Angel giggles. The sound catches in Jack’s chest. He drops his boots with a thud and they look around. 

“Hi dad.” She’s tucked against Rhys’ side, looking like a normal eight year old. She’s sporting a new haircut, and wearing clothes that aren’t what he gave her this morning. The collar around her neck blinks at him.

“Looking cute, pumpkin. Did Rhysie give you a makeover?”

Angel shrinks into herself, which makes him frown. Rhys isn’t looking at her so he doesn’t see, he’s too busy talking. “Angel and I went out shopping today, I saw some nice things that I thought she might like so we splurged a little, then we saw the hairdresser--”

He’s still droning on but Jack has stopped listening. He can’t hear anything over the sound of blood rushing in his ears. Rhys stops talking when Jack’s hands get around his throat, squeezing. Angel is pulling at his arm (“Dad, dad, please, it’s not his fault”) but he shoves her aside. 

“You fucking idiot,” he hears himself snarl. “Do you have any idea how much you almost fucked up?” 

Rhys doesn’t say anything because he can’t. He’s turning purple, his fingers clawing at Jack’s strangling grip. His feet kick uselessly. Jack considers breaking his neck but he can’t, not in front of Angel. Instead he drags Rhys, coughing but alive, out into the hallway and slams the door in his red face 

He turns around, panting, and stops. Angel is levitating a foot off the ground, eyes rolled back in her head. The wings flicker in and out behind her, stretching wide and growing more solid with each passing second. The lights are blinking, all the electronics in the apartment are screaming. Any more and she’ll bring Helios crashing down from orbit. 

He slams the emergency button built into his watch. The collar sparks, she screams and falls to the floor. The lights come back; equilibrium is restored. He falls against the wall and sinks to the ground, head in his hands. He misses Jill like a phantom limb. He’s not meant to be doing this on his own. 

He picks Angel up and tucks her into bed, brushing hair off her smooth forehead. “Sorry, baby girl,” he says, because she is asleep or something like it and she can’t hear him. “I never want to hurt you.” 

Maybe it’s a mercy that Jill’s not here to see what he’s become. 

*

“Angel, no! Oh my god, oh my god, Jill! Angel, what did you do?”

“Daddy? Daddy let go, you’re hurting me--”

“Jill? Oh jesus, oh fuck, no, please god no--”

“Daddy, what’s happening? Daddy, please, I’m scared.”

“Shh, shh, baby, we gotta go, we gotta leave right now. Oh god, Jill. This can’t be happening. Oh my god.”

“Why are we leaving Mommy? I want Mommy!”

“Angel, listen, listen here you little shit! I’m sorry baby, but we gotta go, okay? Stop crying! Oh my god, Jill.”

“I want Mommy!”

“Mommy’s not here, Angel. C’mon, oh fuck. Oh my god. Okay, it’s okay, Daddy will take care of it, Daddy will take care of you baby, just please, for the love of christ, stop fucking crying. Oh god, what am I supposed to do now?”

*

Rhys takes one look at him and tries to slam the door, but Jack’s got a foot in the way and he manages to bull through. Rhys’ eyes dart around his apartment like he’s looking for another way out. The bruises around his neck are an ugly shade of purple.

Jack spreads his hands out and tries to make himself look harmless. “I'm not going to hurt you.” 

“Touch me and I’ll fucking kill you,” Rhys spits. 

“Look, I’m sorry about losing my shit, it won’t happen again.”

“Yeah, cuz you’re never going to see me again, you fucking psycho.”

Jack runs his hands through his hair and tugs fistfuls of it. He’s no good at this stuff, his speciality is ignoring problems until they go away. But he can’t do that this time. He’s not sure why this time it’s different.

“I was trying to protect you.” Even as the words come out of his mouth he realises how ridiculous they sound. 

Rhys looks like he wants to stab him. “I knew you had issues, Jack, everything about you just screams baggage, but I didn’t realise you’re completely fucking nuts.”

He can tell Rhys is seconds away from calling security. He’s not going to have another chance at this, so he says in desperation, “She’s a Siren, you idiot.”

Rhys scowls. “What? No, that’s bullshit. They’re just stories.”

He scrubs a hand over his face and wishes fervently that what Rhys says is true. “She can control tech. All sorts of tech. When she was four years old she killed her mom. It was an accident.”

The colour drains from Rhys’ face. He still looks wary but he sits down. He listens as Jack tells him the whole sorry tale. When Jack finishes he finds he’s breathing hard, he’s clenching his fists together so tightly his fingers are numb. He’s never told that story before. Saying it out loud doesn’t make him feel any better.

Rhys looks as bad as he feels. “Jesus, Jack. You make her sound like a ticking bomb.”

“She is.”

“She’s just a kid.”

 _She’s a murderer,_ he thinks, but that’s not fair. Angel can’t help what she is, just as he can’t help what he is. 

He’s never laid a hand on her in anger. He’s never left her black and blue the way he was at her age, but he takes it out on her in other ways. He knows he’s too distant, too angry, and he knows that’s not good enough but he’s fucking trying. 

Rhys is quiet for a long time before he says, “How’s Angel?” It’s an olive branch, and Jack seizes onto it. 

“She misses you.”

Rhys looks at him like he’s waiting for something else. He just stares back blankly. At last Rhys shakes his head and stands up. “For someone so smart you’re really fucking dumb.”

He’s about to protest when Rhys walks to the door and cocks his head at him. “Do you think Angel will be happy with tacos tonight?”

The relief is so great and so surprising because it’s unexpected. He doesn’t realise he’s missed this too, the normalcy of it, just two guys and a kid sharing food across a table. “Yeah,” he says croakily. “That sounds great.”

Rhys glares at him. “If you lay a finger on me again I’ll cut your dick off in your sleep.”

“Okay, that’s fair.”

*

Angel is overjoyed to see Rhys again. Jack decides that the hideously awkward experience of apologising to Rhys was worth it. 

He tries his best to respect Rhys’ boundaries but it’s hard. He sees Rhys leaning over the table to grab something, and the way his pants pull across his ass makes Jack stick his hands into his pockets to keep them to himself. He sees Rhys talking to Angel and Angel smiling back, and it gives him something like heartburn. 

He doesn't ask Rhys if he’s seeing anyone because that's not the kind of arrangement they have. Plus he decides he doesn’t want to know. Either way, Rhys is mostly here whenever he’s got some down time so that’s something. 

He jerks himself sore every night but it’s not the same. He wants a warm body next to him, breathing softly in sleep. He wants things to go back to what they used to be but he’s not sure if that’s ever possible. 

*

It's a regular night. He's actually home in time for dinner, and Angel spends the whole time telling him about the changes she's making to the ECHOnet infrastructure to improve responsiveness. Rhys looks at her with fondness and awe, and Jack wonders if his own face is capable of that.

He puts her to bed ("I'm not tired!" "Hi not tired, I'm dad") and then it's just him and Rhys in the kitchen, nursing a beer each.

Rhys gives him a look. "You know you’re all she talks about. She thinks you’re an incredible programmer."

Jack drinks his beer because he's not sure what to say to that. His chest feels hot and tight. "Did you go out today?" It's an uneasy compromise: Rhys takes Angel out into the world and Jack spends the whole time pretending he's not freaking out. He still doesn't like it, but he can't deny that Angel is smiling a lot more these days.

"Yeah, we went to the movies and got ice cream after." Rhys arches his eyebrow. "Hardly anyone died."

Jack grunts, and then because he's not a complete bastard he says, "Thanks."

Rhys hums. He's only half way through his beer but there's colour in his cheeks and he's looking at Jack's mouth a lot. Jack licks his lips because he's not above playing dirty. He leans back on his elbows in a way that he knows shows off his body, his sweater pulling up to show an inch of skin. 

Rhys visibly swallows. "I should go," he says without moving.

Jack thumbs the rim of his beer bottle before setting it carefully on the bench. "I'm going to bed," he says, and leaves the door to his room open as he strips off. By the time he's down to his pants Rhys is in there with him, shutting the door behind him.

Rhys reaches over to undo his belt and all of a sudden they're making out, all up on each other's space, hands everywhere. 

He pulls Rhys' shirt over his head and messes up his stupidly perfect hair. Rhys bites at Jack's mouth and says hotly, "You're still a huge dick."

He grinds against Rhys' leg and grabs his pert ass. "Wanna take me for a ride?"

Rhys snorts a laugh, then ducks his head. He’s giving Jack that look where he thinks the answer is going to be ‘no’. “Actually, I want to fuck you this time.”

Jack pauses, surprised into silence. He thinks about it too long and Rhys is already shaking his head, muttering about ‘alpha males and their fucking hang-ups’. 

It’s not that Jack’s precious about his anal virginity or whatever. It’s just that he’s never let himself be vulnerable like that before. He drags Rhys back with a hand on his arm and says, “Yeah, okay, fuck it. But I’ve never done that before, so, you know.” He huffs a breath, not sure what he’s trying to say. “I trust you, okay?”

The look Rhys gives him is entirely too soft. Then Rhys licks his lips and he’s in full fuck mode again. “I’m going to rock your whole world,” he says with a grin. Jack rolls his eyes so hard it hurts. 

They take it slow. Rhys deepthroats him until he’s on the edge. “Fuck, fuck, slow down.” He holds Rhys back with a grip in his hair, trying not to come. “I don’t have the recovery time of a 25 year old, okay?”

“It’ll help, just trust me.” Rhys swallows his dick again, holding him down with an arm across his hips when Jack bucks up and comes with a deep groan. Rhys licks him clean then gives him a heavy lidded look. “Turn over.”

Jack’s face is suspiciously hot when he presses it into the pillow. He can feel Rhys moving behind him, those hands, one warm one cool, sweeping over his back in long strokes. It feels good. Slowly the hands work their way down to his ass, petting him then pulling him open. The only warning he gets is a hot gust of air before Rhys licks into him. “Fuck!” He jumps, clutching at the sheets. Rhys hums and the vibrations travel all the way to his curling toes. 

Rhys is right, the orgasm does help. He’s relaxed enough to enjoy it when Rhys opens him up with his mouth and fingers. The stretch feels weird but good too. The pillow is damp from his panting breaths and he has to turn his head to get enough air. His dick fills out again, pressed between his belly and the sheets.

When Rhys finally pulls back Jack glances warily over his shoulder. Rhys is slicking up his pretty dick. There's a fleeting moment of panic at the idea of fitting that thing in even though logically he knows Rhys does the same all the time with all apparent enjoyment.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Rhys says, sitting back on his heels. “We can stop if you want.”

But Jack’s never backed away from a challenge before and he’s not about to pussy out now. “Stop talking and just get it in me.”

Rhys gives him a smirk like he can see straight through the ruse and slaps him on the ass. “On your knees, handsome.”

Jack moves unsteadily until he’s got his ass in the air and his chest pressed against the bed. He grips the pillow and tries not to feel ridiculous. 

“Fuck, that’s a good look on you,” Rhys says, his voice rough with wanting. That helps a little.

Rhys’ dick slides hot and wet along his cleft, gliding over his hole for a few long strokes before it starts to press in. He can’t help tensing up, squeezing his eyes shut at the weird fullness. 

“Oh shit shit shit,” Rhys says, then, “breathe, Jack, just breathe, you’re gonna snap my dick in half.”

He tries, sucking in big breathfuls of air. Then Rhys drapes over his back, warm and solid, one hand rubbing along his arm. “It’s okay, I got you,” Rhys says. With his other hand he reaches around and cups Jack’s dick which has started to go soft. Rhys has clever hands, and he works Jack until he’s back at full mast, not pressing in any further but just letting Jack fuck into his hand with little twitches of his hips. When Jack feels up to it, he nudges back and feels Rhys’ groan all along his shoulders as the other man sinks into him.

“Fuuuuck,” someone says, he’s not sure who. 

Rhys keeps working a hand along Jack’s dick. It’s a nice distraction. He doesn’t realise Rhys is all the way in until he feels those skinny hips press up against his ass. It’s a little uncomfortable, but underneath that he can feel the beginnings of something good. Then Rhys pulls back and fucks in with a smooth stroke and hits something magic inside. 

“Ah!” He almost bucks Rhys off he’s so startled. Heat is sweeping up and down his body, making him sweat.

“Yeah, I knew you’d like that.” Rhys sounds entirely too smug. Jack wants to snap something cutting but Rhys is fucking him in earnest now and what comes out of his mouth instead is just a long string of noises. 

“God, Jack, your ass is amazing, I can’t believe no one’s ever done this for you before.” Rhys punctuates his words with rough thrusts, his hands tight on Jack’s hips. There’s no trace of discomfort now, just heat winding tight like a coil in Jack’s gut. He’s panting into the sheets, fucking himself back onto Rhys’ dick as he fists his own cock. There’s precome sliding down his fingers, he’s making a fucking mess of himself and he thinks he might die when he comes. His whole world narrows down to the feel of his ass stretching to take Rhys in. When Rhys hits that sweet spot inside just right Jack’s whole body clenches like a fist, pleasure flashing through him like a lightning strike as he comes with a shout.

When he can see again, he’s flat on the bed with Rhys draped bonelessly across his back. His ass feels slick and sore in a good way. He feels like he just lost a couple hundred brain cells. 

“How was that?” Rhys says breathlessly against his ear.

He has to swallow a few times to get his mouth working again. “No wonder you’re so fucking mouthy when I’m inside you, jesus.”

Rhys giggles. “You better start calling me daddy from now on,” he says, then laughs when Jack shoves an elbow into his side.

*

Things are good again: Angel is doing incredible things with Helios’ networks, Rhys is here almost every night, and when Jack’s not too tired from work they have spectacular sex. After a while Jack almost forgets he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He’s climbing the ranks at Hyperion but not fast enough, so when he hears about a vault and what it can offer the idea consumes him. He makes it his mission to find it, open it, to get his hands on what’s inside so he can finally, finally fix his life. He’s away from home more and more, and he sees the looks Rhys gives him, but it doesn’t matter because he is so close. Soon he doesn’t go home at all. 

And then in typical fashion things go to shit, because the universe loves to hate him. 

He gets into the vault. Things happen: understanding it all, knowing what he has to do, feeling that fleeting touch of power like being struck by lightning. Then Lilith fucking happens too. 

By the time he makes it back to Helios the scar is well and truly set. He has his mask but he isn’t wearing it. He feels monstrous, deformed by terrible knowledge; he wants the outside to match his insides.

It’s so late it’s early when he knocks on Rhys’ door.

“Jack? Where the fuck did you go, do you have any idea how worried we’ve been--”

Rhys cuts himself off when Jack steps into the light. A hand flies up to cover his horrified mouth. 

“Hey kitten.” He can feel the scar pulling when he smiles. It hurts; it always hurts. “Miss me?”

“Oh my god, Jack.” Rhys surprises him by coming closer, lifting up his hand. Jack smacks it aside before Rhys can touch his face. “What happened?”

“Life happened, kitten. Life just keeps happening.” He’s got both his hands fisted in Rhys’ night shirt but Rhys doesn’t look scared. He’s looking at Jack like he’s hurting for him. If he says sorry Jack will deck him in the mouth.

But instead Rhys just puts his hands on Jack’s chest, right over his heavy heart. It sparks something in him, and he wants more. He wants to feel something, anything other than what he’s feeling now. “Fuck me,” he grinds out, hauling Rhys close.

Rhys obliges, because he has always been the better man. Rhys holds him down, drags his hands above his head and fucks him so hard he can feel tears prickle at his eyes. When he comes there’s a roar in his head where the Warrior stirs, restless. 

He lies there afterwards, head too full of shit to sleep even though he’s tired, so fucking tired. He’s trying to remember the reasons why he started doing all this but everything is jumbled up. 

Rhys touches a hand to his chest. He’s still awake too. “Do you want to talk?”

He doesn’t, but the words come out anyway. “What would you do for power? All the power in the world?”

Rhys is just like him, only less fucked up. Rhys is ambitious and demanding and goes after what he wants with all the tenacity of a pit bull. But Rhys also has faith, he can hold onto his humanity in the face of all the evidence of how shitty a place the universe truly is. It’s a trait Jack is bitterly jealous of. 

Rhys is quiet a long time. “I don’t know,” he says at last. “What would I have to give up for it?”

Jack thinks about what the vault showed him. He thinks about Angel smiling up at him, tucked under Rhys’ arm, watching cartoons. He thinks about what he's willing to sacrifice. “How do I know if what I have now is worth keeping?”

Rhys looks at him, ECHOeye glowing. “You don’t, not until it’s gone.”

Jack’s entire chest hurts so much he wonders if he’s dying. He feels unreal, intangible, but Rhys is warm and solid next to him and he comes willingly when Jack pulls him close. “You’ll tell me if I fuck things up, right?” 

“I always do,” Rhys answers, and holds him tightly in the dark. Jack doesn’t know if this is going to be enough forever, but it’s enough for now.


End file.
